


282. hide-and-seek

by piggy09



Series: The Sestre Daily Drabble Project [286]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-17 23:32:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10604583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/pseuds/piggy09
Summary: “Sarah,” Helena calls again, voice a wailing echo through the pitch-black room. “Sestra. Come out and play. I miss you.”





	

No matter how hard Sarah strains, she can’t see anything in the dark. Without vision she’s reduced to her other senses, so the world is:

  * The sound of her breathing, jumping, hiccupping, terrified
  * The smell of blood, the taste of blood
  * The press of her hand to her side, the warm wet of her side, the cold concrete ground



There is no other noise but her breathing. She’s tucked away in the corner, shaking from the cold and hoping – Helena has to leave soon, surely, surely soon she’s going to give up and Sarah can go stumbling, crawling home.

Somewhere, echoing, the drag of footsteps. “Sarah,” Helena calls, and the worst part is she sounds so sad and lonely. Like it was an accident. Sarah’s fingers pressed to her side, soaking wet, and surely Helena didn’t _mean_ to. If Sarah manages to make it out from this corner without falling over Helena will burst into tears and say _sorry_.

Or she won’t. Sarah hasn’t heard her put down the knife.

“Sarah,” Helena calls again, voice a wailing echo through the cement. “ _Sestra_. Come out and play. I miss you.”

Sarah’s legs finally give out and scrape against the concrete; she falls into a sitting position, biting down hard on her lip to keep from screaming at the way that jostles her side. She has her hand pressed to it but it keeps getting wetter. Blood smell keeps getting heavier. She can’t see, she can’t even see. She just wants to be able to _see_.

The footsteps have stopped. If Helena heard that sound – if Helena is _coming here_ —

Sarah’s shoulders tremble. She only realizes she’s crying because her cheeks get warm, briefly, before they’re colder than they were before. She’s so cold. Imagine if Helena was sorry. Imagine if Helena came over here and she had a blanket and she wrapped Sarah in it and said _let’s go home_ and – and of course that’s the blood loss talking, but she hadn’t realized that’s what she wanted. If Sarah had let herself slip into some imagining, she’d thought it would be Kira. A warm house. A holiday she’s never spent with her daughter. Not Helena being sorry.

But apparently that’s what she wants, once Helena has cut her open and let everything else bleed out. God, she wants Helena to be sorry.

She can’t tell if Helena is still unmoving, or if Sarah can’t hear her anymore. Does it matter? Maybe it’s for the best if Helena ends it. Sarah is so tired of being cold, so tired of being tired.

Her mouth opens, cracked lips. _Helena_ , she could say it, it would end things one way or another. _Helena_ and Helena would come for her. _Helena_ and she might not be holding the knife, maybe she’s put it down, maybe she’s finally finally finally sorry.

Sarah closes her eyes. Nothing changes, the whole world keeps on not changing. She opens her eyes again; tears slip off her eyelashes when she does. She has her lips clamped together to keep from sobbing, but it doesn’t stop the shaking at all. Her breath is quick hiccups through her nose and through the gaps between her lips and her _side_ , all that blood, all that blood Helena please Helena come fix it.

“Sarah,” Helena calls out again. Wind-echo, ghost-sigh. Each syllable long enough to wrap all the way around Sarah’s neck: _Sa-rah_. Is Helena closer than she was before? Is she further away? Has she put down the knife, is she sorry?

“Helena,” Sarah says, even though she doesn’t know the answer. The word isn’t loud enough when it falls out of her mouth; she can’t hear it at all, even with her eyes open.

“Helena?” she says again. It’s so quiet. She listens to the sound of Helena’s footsteps pacing around, and she stares into the dark, and the dark tells her nothing. Sarah is staring into the dark and the dark won’t answer. Helena is pleading to the dark and the dark won’t answer. Sad, really, when you think about it. Sad, when Sarah realizes she’s going to die here. Alone in the dark. Helena isn’t even close enough to realize she can’t see her.

Sarah closes her eyes, finally, lets her head lean back. Her breathing has slowed, which is bad. She can still smell blood, taste blood, feel blood against the palm of her hand. Without her breathing to bother her she can hear the sound of Helena’s footsteps, which might be getting close to her or might just be getting further away.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please kudos + comment if you enjoyed! :)


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